


The King's Speech

by letsride (orphan_account)



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: (sorry i'm a floridian i love jeb), 2016 US Presidential Election, American Politics, Elections, Gen, I swear, LONG LIVE JEB 2K16, but he tried hard, but u just gotta FEEL for ted n heidi, i almost feel as bad for him as i do jeb, i'm not a republican, i've had to give shit up too- not an election
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:33:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7071256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/letsride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He felt, in this moment, that his love of God was well-founded, because he was experiencing Hell as he stood and looked over the faces, and listened to the voices of the people he disappointed, and he never wanted to experience it again. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The King's Speech

**Author's Note:**

> I try to humanize the candidates I hate, because I hate hate. After watching Cruz' speech, I really felt for him. He really thought he was doing the right thing the entire campaign, but he was unsure this time. It's unsettling to see such a force of nature shaken to his core.
> 
> yeah.

                “ _Failure. I am a failure. I’ve failed America, I’ve failed my wife. I failed myself. I failed all of you. You are faithful to me as I am faithful to god, and I’ve failed you.  My CHILDREN.“That’s_ what it _felt_ like he was saying, at least. Ted Cruz stood tall and proud despite his shortcomings.  His many shortcomings. Heidi stood tall too- Heidi, bless her heart, was stronger than he’d been. “ _I failed you, Heidi. Love of my life. I’m so sorry.”_  A _viable path to victory-_ that’s what he’d just said. His mouth kept going but it was all rehearsed, as he spoke, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was saying, if he was even still talking.

He knew he'd miss this, the bright lights, the proud Americans. The attention was absolutely intoxicating. He’d miss this- he’d miss speaking on his viable path to victory, and heck- who knew, maybe there still was one. Maybe he was just giving up. He prayed he was doing the right thing.

                The truth was, some men just wanted to watch the world burn- and Donald Trump was one of them. He’d make it personal as long as there was something personal to say. It was **taxing** on him, his family, his image, his _wallet._ Politics were never easy but they had never been this _vicious_ either.

Coming to terms with God’s plan was difficult, especially when it seemed like God’s plan involved a spray tanned reality star running the country he was so proud of.   _Especially_ when it played out that God’s plan included some millennial accusing him of 37 serial murders.  

                America, land of the free and the _brave._ That’s what his campaign was for. Sure, on some level, he was doing it for himself-  but… _himself._ Himself the _failure,_ Himself the _ex-candidate._ Himself the former senator. Past the thoughts that numbed and consumed him as he spoke, he felt himself saying _we_ repeatedly.

                ” Will we secure freedom of thought, expression and religion for future generations?” He asked, like he’d asked the mirror a hundred times before coming out to speak. **_WE._**

                _We_ was a big word for someone giving up on his people. _We_ was a big word for a failure. _We_ was a big word for someone who had to go home and explain that Daddy’s home because he, somehow, failed to a bad man. A tyrant. He’d buckled under the pressure of hundreds and thousands of cruel words, meme, and the weight of valuing his health and marriage over delegates.

                He feared for America. He feared for the Republican Party. Most of all he feared the coming months, the people in the streets, the interviews, the bad press. There was only so much one man could take, and Ted Cruz felt like he had taken it all.

                Despite his sudden internal aversion to _we,_ he used it with vigor in the last words written for him, somber yet proud in tone. He’d made it _this_ far, right? But who would Jesus be if he’d only made it halfway? Was it a sin to compare himself to the Son? He’d lost count. Although he couldn’t forgive himself, not now and not ever, for failing America, he knew that at least God would- and that counted for _something._ A lump formed in his throat as he finished speaking- he wondered if **Heidi** could forgive him, if Catherine and Caroline could. It scared him.

                Although he was still ebbing between his drowning thoughts and reality, he felt himself say “There is no substitute for the America that each and every one of us loves with all of our heart, that we believe in with all of our heart and that together we will restore as a shining city on the hill for every generation to come. Thank you to each of you and god bless you.” And the thunderous applause brought him back to himself. He felt, in this moment, that his love of God was well-founded, because he was experiencing Hell as he stood and looked over the faces, and listened to the voices of the people he disappointed, and he never wanted to experience it again.


End file.
